This climax appeared sublime to Chicot, and determined him to clemency.
“Here they are! Mon Dieu,” cried Gorenflot, vainly trying to rise, “here they come, I am lost! Oh! good M. Chicot, help me!” and finding he could not rise, he threw himself with his face to the ground.
“Get up,” said Chicot.
“Do you pardon me?”
“We shall see.”
“You have beaten me so much.”
Chicot laughed; the poor monk fancied he had received the blows given to Mayenne.
“You laugh, M. Chicot.”
“I do, animal.”
“Then I shall live?”